Plan B
by lap-of-the-gods
Summary: Crack!fic - established Wincest, implied bottom!Sam. Sam and Dean have run out of a rather important item...


**Plan B**

Dean glared at Sam with something akin to disbelief. "How can we have run out? You're always so anal about making sure we have an extra tube in…this is just crazy. Damn it, Sam!"

Sam smirked, "I'm _anal_ about it? Seriously, Dean, _that's_ the phrase you choose?"

Dean let out an irritated growl. "You know very well what I mean."

"Why's it always up to me to buy it?" Sam countered. "You're perfectly capable of picking some off the shelf when you're in the store. It's not like it isn't clearly labelled; and just because most of it's used on me, doesn't automatically make it my responsibility to buy it!"

"Why not? It's you that gets it all over place! When normal people open the tube, they squeeze out a reasonable amount, but not you Sammy. Oh no, you have to pour out twice as much as we need. It sticks to everything, and it itches like a bitch when it dries!"

Sam rolled his eyes and made a frustrated noise. "Oh my God Dean, don't be such a baby! A quick shower afterwards and it's like it was never there. And you say _I'm_ the drama queen!" He gestured downwards with both his hands and his eyes, before turning the 'Puppy Eyes of Doom' on his big brother. "Please, Dean? Go and get some, it's getting painful, we can't do it without."

Dean let out a growl low in his throat. "You're not the only one in this predicament, Sam!" Looking at his brother, he knew he was fighting a losing battle. "_Fine_, I'll go, but you owe me big time! When I get back… oh hell, I don't know!" He snatched his jacket, keys and wallet.

"Hurry." Sam replied, around the needy little noises that he'd started making.

Dean slammed the door hard enough to rattle the windows.

~ . ~ . ~ . ~

"You've got to be _kidding_ me!" Dean said as he got to the aisle he expected to find the damn thing that was so far totally ruining his night of passion. He scanned all the shelves, but it was no good. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and hit speed dial.

"Tell me you're calling to say you're on your way back." Sam snapped.

"Uh, hello to you too."

"Bite me!"

"Maybe later, but for now we have a problem."

"What do you mean by a _problem_? Pick it up off the shelf, pay for it, bring it back here and put it to good use! I see no problem here, Dean."

Dean cleared his throat a little, and lowered his voice a little. "They don't have any."

"What? How? You're kidding, right?"

"Do I sound like a man who's making a joke right now Sammy?" Even to his own ears, Dean's voice was strained and husky. He heard rustling on the other end of the phone, and Sam was breathing heavier now. "Sam? Sam, what's going on?"

"I told you…getting a little painful. You'll have to get something else, anything that will do the job."

"What the hell am I supposed to get instead?"

"You're a smart guy, use your imagination, but just _hurry up_!"

"Not helping here, man."

He walked up and down the shelves, looking for their alternative choice. He stopped when Sam obviously had a Eureka! moment on the other end of the phone. Listening to his brother, he slowly came to the conclusion that Sam must've fallen and hit his head in the 10 minutes since he was left alone, because what he'd just suggested wasn't from the mouth of any sane man.

"You want to use _what_?" he squeaked. "No way man, there is _no way_ that I'm walking up to the counter and asking for that."

"Dean come on, it's the next best thing. It works in the same way, and it'll do for tonight. We can pick up the proper stuff in a couple of days."

"Sam, this is the only store in this backwater town. We've interviewed half the people in here right now, how can you expect them to take us seriously if they see me buying that?"

Sam's tone of voice changed – it was his best 'I'm in charge now, and you're gonna listen' to me, voice. "Dean, what do you care about more, your street cred, or leaving me hanging here like this? You'll leave us both hanging, and that's not fair, man. Come on, just this once, step up and just buy the damn thing!"

"But what if someone sees me, they're gonna think – "

"They're not gonna think _anything_, Dean," Sam interrupted, "Just buy it and get back here!"

Dean pulled the phone away from his ear in disbelief - Sam just hung up on him. "You're so gonna pay for this one, Sammy" he mumbled as he headed towards to counter. He pulled his collar up, and slumped his shoulders, hoping no-one would recognise him as he asked for what they needed.

The clerk popped her cherry scented gum loudly, barely batting an eyelid. "Any colour preference, sweetheart?"

"What? No. Er… clear?" he babbled.

"Sure thing."

He grabbed the bag, tossed some notes on the counter, and got the hell out of Dodge, without waiting for change.

~ . ~ . ~ . ~

Sam had to move off the bed quickly to avoid the bag flying at his head as Dean walked through the motel room door. He watched in amusement as Dean shucked his jacket and took off his boots.

"I can't believe you made me buy that shit!" he spat as he walked towards Sam, losing his t-shirt and jeans on the way.

Sam just chuckled and carefully pulled his t-shirt off too. He reached into the bag and pulled out the bottle, holding it out towards Dean.

He continued to grumble as he set to work on taking care of his little brother. Sam hissed as the cold liquid touched his skin. "Stings." he said.

"Quit your damn whining, jackass. It's your fault we're in this mess!"

"Oh come on Dean, it's not that bad. It's not that deep, a couple of days and it'll be good as new."

Neither spoke as the older man set about treating the gash on Sam's lower belly. Even though Dean said out loud it was Sam's fault, the younger Winchester knew that Dean would be blaming himself for not getting them out of the way of the creature's claws. They'd both taken a gash, in almost identical places. Hopefully they wouldn't leave scars – chances were that if the skin would hold together with half of the contents in the small bottle in his hand, they'd be fine.

An hour later, both patched and cleaned, they were curled up in bed. Dean refused to acknowledge it was cuddling, but Sam let it go – some battles just weren't worth fighting. The younger man was just drifting off to sleep when Dean spoke.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't _ever_ make me buy nail polish again. You hear me?"

Sam chuckled. "Well next time we're short on super glue to patch us up, it's your turn to grab some. You always make me buy the lube, so it's only fair."

"Whatever!" he mumbled.

Long after Sam's soft snores filled the room, Dean realised he'd never gotten agreement from his brother. "Son of a _bitch_!"

~ . ~ END ~ . ~


End file.
